


Fascination

by Miko no da (Miko)



Series: Sinners & Saints [9]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:59:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3108662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko%20no%20da
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Omi and Youji are away on a mission, Ken and Aya are left behind to make some discoveries of their own.</p><p>(Posting OLD fics from my defunct website)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fascination

I wonder if there's a Guinness Book of World Records entry for 'most flower arrangements ruined in one hour'. If so, I must surely be getting close to breaking the record. Pain blossoms in my thumb as I jab myself on yet another rose thorn, spilling blood down to stain the white satin ribbon winding through the blooms. Cursing, I yank the ribbon and the offending rose out of the vase and toss them in the garbage.

Across the room, Aya looks up from his own work, one thin red brow raised. "Are you all right?" he asks, a hint of something in his voice. Even after all the time I've spent watching him, studying his emotions, I'm still not sure whether it's concern for me or irritation at being interrupted. I decide to flatter myself and assume it's concern.

"I'm fine," I mutter. "Who the hell stripped these roses, anyway? That's the third time I've drawn blood this shift!" I slide the injured digit into my mouth, hoping the saliva will help clot the blood before I ruin any more ribbons. God, I hate blood. I can't stand the smell of it, the taste of it. It steeps my life from dusk till dawn - you'd think I'd at least be free of it during the daylight hours.

The second eyebrow rises to join the first, and this time I have no trouble identifying the amusement in his voice. "I believe you were supposed to de-thorn the roses today, actually," he replies.

Damn, he's right, too. I feel myself flush, and turn my attention back to my work. I've been trying to fill this one damn order for the last hour, and I'm not much closer to being finished than when I'd started. The worst of it is, it isn't even a particularly complicated arrangement.

Movement on the balcony above us reminds me why I'm so distracted tonight - even I'm not usually this bad with the arrangements. Omi and Youji are going on a mission tonight, without Aya and I. That's not unusual in and of itself; sometimes we get missions that didn't require more than two or three people. The unusual part is the involvement of someone outside the team - Omi's former Master, to be precise.

I still have trouble connecting Omi with the idea of BDSM. Oh, sure, we'd all suspected he might be involved in something of the sort. He'd spent a couple of months avoiding all of us outside of missions and the shop, and there had been that collar he'd taken to wearing. We'd never found out for sure, though, and one day Aya and I had come down to the shop to find Omi cuddled up against Youji's side, free of both the collar and the darkness we hadn't even realized he'd been carrying around.

He'd told me later that he'd had some kind of fight with Youji a long time ago, just after Aya joined Weiss, and that he'd been trying to get his mind off it. Whatever they'd fought about, they'd certainly patched things up - I've never seen two people so disgustingly in love with each other. Youji adores the kid, and Omi plainly worships him. It's sweet, and no one could be happier than me that Omi finally got the kind of love he deserves, but at the same time it hurts to watch them together. It reminds me of everything I've lost, and makes me wonder if I'll ever have a chance at that kind of love.

Thinking about love inevitably sends my eyes to Aya. I've been lusting after the man since I first laid eyes on him, but I have about as much chance of getting him to notice me as I do of convincing Omi never to use a computer again. He's untouchable, the proverbial Ice Man, and not for the likes of me. That doesn't stop me from dreaming, though. Dreaming about that stern expression giving way to tortured passion, dreaming about his frosted violet eyes melting into steamy purple... he's so controlled, never allowing all the passion I know is inside him to escape, except in the form of his obsessive battle rages. I can't help but envy the person who manages to unlock all that passion in bed...

Thankfully clattering feet on the stairs tear my mind away from that train of thought before I embarrass myself in front of him. Omi precedes Youji through the door into the shop, and suddenly all thought processes come to a screeching halt.

He's... I don't have a word for it. Gorgeous. Sensual. Sexy, God yes, sexy as all hell. The little velvet cat ears I'd seen a few days ago in the package his 'Master' had sent him perch jauntily on top of his head, his golden hair hiding the band and making them look eerily realistic. Something golden and glittery shines in his hair, matching the body glitter peeking through the translucent black fabric stretched tight across his lithe young body. Almost nothing is left to the imagination - he's saved from total indecency only by the thin strip of opaque material that forms a g-string. A matching black velvet tail hangs from the back of that, swishing against the backs of his legs with every breath he takes and drawing the eyes to it. The entire outfit both showcases and is set off by the black leather choker around his neck, with the little golden pendant dangling at his collarbone.

I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and pray he won't look down and see where the rest of it is heading! God, I've never seen anything so deliberately sexy in my life! Omi has always been like a kid brother to me. Sure, I noticed he was gorgeous, who wouldn't? But with Omi it's such an innocent sensuality that I've never really thought about ACTING on it. It's like watching a butterfly, or a playing kitten - you admire the beauty for its own sake.

This is different, though. This is a kitten with claws, at least of a sexual sort. I've never seen Omi so... aggressive before. The air of innocence is still there, his big blue eyes practically shouting, 'Sex? What on earth would I know about sex?' The rest of his body paints a different picture entirely. This is someone who knows what he wants, and is perfectly capable of charging hell with a waterpistol to get it.

"O... Omi!" I gasp, barely aware I'm saying the word. He blushes prettily, enhancing the innocent air he carries with him. Then he twirls, plainly showing off, and all the breath leaves my lungs in a quiet 'whoosh'.

"Like it?" he asks pertly, pausing to glance back at me over his shoulder. My own blush deepens, and the rest of my body reacts as well. I'm nearly dizzy with the reaction, glad for the baggy pants I always wear though I'm mortally certain they aren't hiding a damn thing. Is he... is he FLIRTING with me? With his boyfriend standing right there beside him?

Reality asserts itself. Of course he's flirting - he's a teenager who's just discovered he has the power to stop his best friend in his tracks. Who wouldn't take the chance to show off? Not to mention rubbing our noses in the fact that he's not fifteen any more. As if I could ever forget it after this little display! I'll be lucky to be able to face him again without blushing.

I glance over at Aya to see how he's taking the show, and I'm surprised to see a hint of pink across his cheeks as well. Maybe he's not a total ice block after all. Then again, you'd have to be dead not to react to Omi the way he looks right now.

"We're off, as soon as Omi gets his coat," Youji drawls as he leans against the doorway to wait for his young lover. Amusement is clear in his voice. I would have expected him to be the jealous type, but he seems to be having as much fun as Omi in disconcerting Aya and I. Then again, he's been trying to shake Aya's calm from day one, so maybe that's not so surprising.

I wrench my mind back to the present to see Omi heading right for me, a hint of a smirk on his face. I realize I'm standing directly between him and the coat closet, and I scramble to get out of his way, averting my eyes. There's no way he could miss the condition of my body up close, and that's the last thing I need.

I thought I'd gotten far enough out of the way, so I'm startled when he brushes against me on his way by. From this distance I can see that 'transparent' is a better description of his clothes than 'translucent'. His scent wafts over me, spicy and alluring and nothing like I'd ever thought he could smell like. It conjures up images of silk sheets and sweaty bodies, and I curse my fertile imagination for wondering what it would be like to have this boy submit himself to me completely. Youji is one lucky son of a bitch, and I hope he realizes it.

Then Omi is by me again, a long coat covering him, and I'm able to breathe a bit more freely. The look he gives me over one shoulder tells me he isn't unaware of the effect he's having on me, and I give him a wry grin of acknowledgment in return. Score one for the bishounen.

"Let's go," he laughingly orders Youji, and waves to us both over his shoulder. Then they're gone out the door, and I'm left alone in the shop with Aya once more.

Aya... I glance at him again, and I'm caught in the intensity of his gaze. Not frosted, for once, oh no - he's no more immune to Omi than I am, apparently, and there's a startled kind of heat in his eyes. Instantly my fantasies of Omi submitting himself to me vanish, replaced by images of me prostrate at this man's feet, awaiting his slightest command. I can't help but shiver, feeling lust surge through me at the thought. What would he do, I wonder, if I offered myself to him? What hidden passions would he fulfill with me as his willing slave? Suddenly I can see the fascination BDSM holds for Omi after all. What power, to give someone else total control over you. The trust implicit in the act of submission is breathtaking.

I close my eyes and swallow hard, turning away before opening them again. If I'm not staring right at him, drowning in the violet of his gaze, I might not make a fool out of myself by throwing myself at him. Instead I stare at the door my teammates vanished through moments before, trying not to think about what they were heading into.

"Ken..." his voice is full of surprise, and I look back to see an expression on his face like he's just realized something that should have been obvious. He watches me intently, and there's something in his eyes that looks oddly like sorrow, or maybe regret. "Ken, you're in love with Omi, aren't you?"

I'm so busy wondering at the expression on his face that I almost miss the import of what he said. When it catches up to me, it hits me with a force that leaves me gaping at him like an idiot. "Wh- what?" I stutter, showing off my intelligence.

"You're in love with Omi," he repeats, nodding to himself as if I'd just confirmed his bizarre conclusion. "I should have realized it before. You two were always close, and you've been quiet and withdrawn ever since he and Youji started sleeping together..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I cut him off, trying to figure out where the hell this had all come from. Omi? He thinks I'm in love with Omi? When I've spent the last two years trailing him around like the victim of a love potion? "Aya, where on earth did you get the idea that I was in love with Omi?"

"You've been acting jealous of the two of them since they got together," he points out, crossing his arms over his chest.

I shake my head, disbelieving. He really is that oblivious. "I'm not jealous of them, I'm envious," I retort. "There's a difference. They have something really wonderful together. Watching the two of them, I can't help wondering if..." I glance away, uncomfortable with admitting even this much of my feelings. "If I'll ever find something like that." I snort with laughter and raise my hand to rub at the back of my head, embarrassed. How could he think I was in love with Omi, when I'd hardly even looked at another guy since Aya had joined the team?

I glance back and see him staring at me with a completely dumbfounded look on his face. Startled, I wonder what I said to put that expression on his face. "You... you think of _me_ that way?" he asks, shocked. I'm horrified to realize that I must have spoken my last thought out loud - I as good as admitted to him that I lusted after him. Oh God, I'm a walking dead man. He'll decapitate me - or worse, he'll castrate me for daring to think about him that way.

Panic hits me all at once, along with a desperate need to be _somewhere else_. "I'm sorry!" I blurt out, the only thing I can think of to say. I bolt for the door, unwilling to even check to see the rest of his reaction. Horror, I'm sure, or maybe disgust. He hadn't had any problems with Omi and Youji's relationship, but that didn't mean he'd be happy knowing one of his male teammates had lustful thoughts about _him_. I'm out the door before he can stop me, not even stopping to grab my jacket on the way out.

Luckily I still have the keys for my bike in my jeans pocket from earlier that day. I kickstart my bike with a violent motion, tearing out of the garage like all the hounds of hell are on my heels. Well, Aya in a rage is about as scary as any hellhound could ever be, that's for sure.

I can hardly see to steer the bike straight, my thoughts are in such a mess. For long moments I actually entertain the notion of not going back, of just heading straight out of Tokyo and going until I ran out of gas. Reality asserts itself pretty quickly - I have no access to money and no I.D. since I left my wallet behind, and no marketable skills to make more money except soccer, flower arranging, and assassination. Besides, even if Aya would be just as happy never to see me again, I'm pretty sure Omi would be upset if I just vanished like that. So, I finally decide to stay out long enough to (hopefully) let Aya cool down before I go back. If I'm lucky, he'll have gone to his own apartment by the time I get back, and I won't see him again until morning. By then Omi and Youji will be back to provide a buffer between us, and maybe he won't kill me outright after all.

The wind ruffling my hair reminds me that I left my helmet sitting on its hook in the garage, and I slow the bike a little. For all the mess I've just made out of my life, I have no particular desire to bash my brains out against a brick wall. Nor do I wish to trash my bike and wind up having to call Aya to come rescue me. God, that's _all_ I need! I slow further, then pull over to the side of the road and stop entirely when bright lights catch my eye.

The sun set a few minutes before I left the shop, and although it's still light enough to see relatively easily, the soccer field in front of me has its overhead lights blazing. The players are lit in harsh relief, shadows chasing each other back and forth across the field as they follow the ball in its winding path. These kids are older than the ones I coach, probably in middle school. About the same age I'd been when Kase and I had started going for J-League seriously.

I lower the kickstand on the bike and lean forward to rest my arms on the handlebars, watching the game. The memories it evokes still hurt, and probably always will; the laughter as Kase and I bounced a ball around the church yard, the sweat of hours of daily drills, the overwhelming joy the day we'd both been accepted into the League.

And, of course, the confusion and horror of that last game. It should have been the best moment of my life - playing in the championship finals, just one game away from the title, and it was all up to me - it was what I'd been dreaming of my whole life. Instead it was like every nightmare of failure I'd ever had, come to life. My arms and legs had been completely uncoordinated, as if there was no central brain directing things. The drug had muddled my reflexes and my perceptions until I'd hardly known which way was up, never mind where the ball was coming from.

Afterwards, there had been the accusations of cheating, the threatened trial, and the yakuza attacking Kase and I in that warehouse. When they'd hit me over the head and dragged him off, screaming, I'd thought I'd never see him again. Hell, I'd thought I'd never see anything ever again, period. Waking up in the hospital had been a miracle, though at the time I wasn't sure I was happy about it. Everything in my life had been destroyed; I could never play soccer again, and my best friend and lover was dead, or so I'd thought.

I've often wondered how much my teammates know or guess about my relationship with Kase. I never came out and admitted that we were lovers, but I was pretty obvious about my feelings during that mission against the Creepers. I wonder what they would think if they knew the things we'd done together - the things I'd let him do to me. I shiver, wishing I'd grabbed my jacket, but knowing it isn't really the cold that's affecting me.

Sometimes I envy Omi his amnesia. It must be nice to be able to just forget everything bad in your past, to start over with a clean slate. What I wouldn't give to be able to do the same! To wipe myself clean of the taint I'd carried around for so many years, to be free to love and be loved. Yuriko had helped me to do that at least in a small way, and there are still moments, like now, when I ache at the loss of her. In my darkest moments I sometimes curse Youji for reminding me that I don't deserve her, that I would only soil someone as bright and pure as she was. But he hadn't said anything I hadn't already known, and it wasn't really his fault that I'd chosen not to go with her to Australia.

I have only myself to blame for losing her, just as I have only myself to blame for allowing Kase to manipulate me so thoroughly. I'd trusted him, loved him, been blindly loyal to him, and he'd repaid me in pain and suffering. Not just at the end; trying to kill me had only been the last straw, the one thing even I couldn't explain away or rationalize. I'd been like a beaten wife, making excuses for why he would hurt me or humiliate me, telling myself that I must have deserved it in some way. He'd never physically abused me, never screamed at me or hit me directly. No, he'd been far too intelligent for that, too subtle to screw up that obviously. Instead he'd played me like a master flautist played his instrument, coaxing every nuance and subtle shade of tone from me that he could get.

Looking back on it now, I can see that I'd been totally dependent on him, needing his approval for every little thing. It's one reason why I'm so afraid for Omi now; I don't want to think of him in the same position I'd been in. What kind of person is his Master? Is submitting himself just a harmless kink, something that lets Omi relax from the pressures of leading us? Or is his Master the type of person that will twist Omi around his fingers, lead him to believe that he is worthless and deserving of punishment? Hopefully Youji will be able to spot something like that and stop it before it gets started, but what about the damage that might have already been done before tonight?

Cheering from the field brings me back from the dark path of my thoughts. The game is over, the winning team piling on top of each other in the middle of the field in a massive victory hug. I remember that feeling, how good it felt to know that I'd had a part in bringing my team one step closer to glory. My cheeks heat as I also recall the private celebrations Kase and I had always had after a winning game. Not everything about my relationship with him had been bad, that much is certain.

But thinking of the good times we'd had brings back more memories of the bad, and I know I'm not going to escape this train of thought easily. I don't often allow myself to dwell on the mistakes of my past, but occasionally I'm swamped by my own guilt and self-pity in a cycle that I can't escape. Usually I go to Omi for comfort and companionship, but that's out of the question tonight. That thought startles me, as I realize it's been nearly a year since the last time I'd needed to seek him out to help me break the chain of memory. Maybe time does dull the pain after all.

Still, that won't help me tonight. I've never yet done anything stupid while in the middle of depression, but I'm not sure how much of that is due to the fact that I'm smart enough to always seek out company when I'm this down. Tonight I'll find out how far I can sink into misery; Omi is out of reach, and there's no way in hell I'm going to Aya for company.

Now the field is emptying rapidly, the players and their parents heading home for the night. The last weak rays of the sun are long gone, leaving only the pale reflection of the moon to light this part of the earth. Darkness is the last thing I need right now, and staring at an empty soccer field is guaranteed to drive me further into depression than I've ever gone before. Time to head for home, where I can at least turn on all the lights and keep myself company with television or the stereo. Then again... I reconsider as I realize that Aya is likely still in the shop. I'd probably do better to ride around for a while and give him more of a chance to cool off.

Riding my bike has always been a form of meditation for me. I head out of the city and into the less travelled areas, looking for the winding roads I love best. A few hours of nothing but me and the wind, and I'll either be okay again or depressed enough to do something drastic. Let's hope it's the former.

The peace of the night does calm me down, and helps to get my mind off my past. Finally I decide to turn back, and I find a road leading towards the Koneko. Our part of Tokyo is mostly suburbs, and it's quieter at this time of night than the core of the city. I cut the engine and glide into the garage, the large empty space where Youji's car belongs reminding me of the events of the night. As if I need the reminder. I won't breathe easily until they're safely home again, and I know Omi won't have to submit himself like that any more.

There's no sign of activity in the shop, and the door is locked tightly when I try it. Not surprising, since Aya was the last one working. I turn to the door that leads up to the apartments, and am brought up short in surprise.

There's a piece of white paper taped to the door, with my name written on it in flowing hiragana. It's Aya's handwriting; I'd recognize it anywhere. Suddenly ice forms in the pit of my stomach. I hadn't brought my pager with me while I was out, and if Omi or Youji had called for backup Aya would have had no way of reaching me. What if they'd needed me? God, what if something happens to them because I'd been too absorbed in my own self-pity to grab my pager? I'll never be able to live with myself.

Half-panicked, I reach for the paper and pull it off the door. Something metallic and black falls out of the folds, and I catch it with a goalie's quick reflexes. It's the earpiece of our transmitters, designed to slip over our ears and stay there no matter what, so that we don't have to worry about it while we're working on a mission. So they did call for backup, and Aya had left this to let me know.

Though... why leave the transmitter here? I could have gotten it from the mission room myself easily enough. I need to go down there to get my claw anyway. The range on these things isn't much, to keep strangers from picking up the transmissions. If he'd left even ten minutes ago, he'd be well out of range.

It finally occurs to me to open the damn paper and find out what the note actually says. I unfold it, noting the careful precision of the folds. He's such a perfectionist, honestly! I finally get it open and see that it's not the detailed instructions I was expecting, but instead contains a single sentence.

_Do you trust me?_

Do I trust him? What the hell kind of a question is that? Of course I trust him. I trust him with my life, literally, every time we go out on a mission. I flip the paper back and forth a couple of times, and even try holding it up against the light, but there's nothing more written there. Just my name, and that one sentence. What the hell is he up to?

Curiosity piqued, earlier misery all but forgotten in the fascination of Aya's strange behaviour, I slide the earpiece on and adjust it so the tiny mike rests against my throat where it belongs. "Aya?" I call tentatively. "Abyssinian, are you there?"

"Ken." Just my name, but the way he says it sends shivers up and down my spine. God, forget working in a flower shop, he's got a voice that was designed to elicit erotic images. He should be working for a phone sex line or something. I grip the doorframe, not entirely certain my legs will hold me up.

"Yeah?" I manage to croak, wondering at the effect he's having on me. I've heard his voice over the transmitters before, every time we have a mission together. It doesn't usually make me shivery and weak-kneed. Then again, on a mission his voice is flat and unemotional, not caressing the syllables of my name like a lover. Like the scent Omi was wearing earlier, his tone of voice conjures images of silk sheets and sweaty bodies - preferably _our_ sweaty bodies. I swallow hard, and try to keep my breathing quiet.

"What's your answer?" There is amusement in his voice, as well as something like anticipation. It takes me a moment to realize he's talking about the question on the paper in my hand.

Do I trust him? I sense that there's a lot more involved in this than whether I trust him at my back in a fight. Considering what I'd said to him earlier tonight, and his probable reaction... do I trust him? When this is most likely his retaliation for that thoughtless comment? What will he do if I say yes?

What might I miss if I say no?

"Yes," I breathe out, hardly managing to articulate the word. My heart is beating so hard in my chest I'm afraid the blood pounding in my ears will mask his next words. I needn't have worried - that dark chocolate voice comes through loud and clear.

"Good. Do exactly as I tell you. No more, no less. Understand?"

"Yes," I say again. God, what is going through his head right now? What does he have planned?

"Go to the bathing room. Strip, and wash yourself thoroughly."

I open the door and walk down the hall like I'm in a dream. Hell, maybe I am in a dream. If this is heading where I think it might be heading, it could certainly be one of my fantasies. I'm afraid to hope for that, afraid to believe it might mean what I think it does. He doesn't think of me that way. He's never shown any indication that he even likes _guys_ ¸ let alone me. Only in my dreams would this lead to something more.

The bathing room is one of the few true luxuries we have here at the Koneko. We all have Western-style showers in the bathrooms in our apartments, but some time ago we'd pooled our resources to have one of the downstairs storage rooms converted into a real Japanese bathing room. Being able to soak away the myriad bruises and scrapes we acquire on missions is worth any expense, to my mind. The tub is large enough for two people, though I've never shared it with anyone. The thought makes my cheeks heat again, especially as it reminds me of the one time I'd almost walked in on Omi and Youji. Only a sharp cry of pleasure from Omi had warned me in time not to open the door - they'd forgotten to put the 'do not disturb' sign on the door.

I slide open the door to the first room now, wondering what I'll find inside. It's empty, only the shelves for clothes and shoes keeping me company. Hands shaking with nerves, I fumble with the fastenings of my clothes. Boots first, then jeans and sweater. I hesitate over the boxers, but he'd told me to strip and wash, and I couldn't do that with my boxers on. Blushing again, I ease the soft material over the bulge in front, cursing my body for making this so damn awkward. At least he hasn't said anything more; the sound of his voice right now might be enough to push me over the edge, I'm strung so tight.

I hesitate over the transmitter - it's technically waterproof, but I'm not sure I want to test that. But if I take it off, I won't be able to hear him if he tells me to do something else.

"Aya?" I hate myself for the way my voice comes out so breathy and uncertain. Clearing my throat, I manage to sound firm again. "Should I leave the transmitter on?"

"Yes," he answers, and I shiver again. For all that I've suspected his chilly facade concealed a core of heat and passion, I never expected to hear it in his voice! He could melt icicles just by talking to them, the way he sounds right now. God.

I stow my stuff on the shelves and slip my feet into the flimsy sandals designed for the bathing room. The next door leads into a small tiled area, with a drain at the centre and a wooden stool and bucket nearby. The faucet is one of those flexible showerheads, to make it easier to reach the difficult places. I take my place on the stool and reach for the bucket. Inside are soap and a washcloth, and I set to work cleaning off the sweat and dirt of the day.

The soap is slick against my skin, making my hands glide over it with an almost caressing touch. Belatedly I notice that this isn't the soap that's usually in here - this bar is scented with something musky and spicy, not unlike what Omi had been wearing earlier. It smells like sex, I finally realize, blushing again. Like the room smelled when Kase and I had been going at it all night, bringing each other over the edge again and again. Small wonder it brings to mind the images it does.

I hesitate over my erection, but he'd said to clean myself thoroughly. I wash it quickly, hardly able to keep from lingering and touching in ways I hadn't been told to. 'No more, no less'. God, what am I getting into?

Finally I stand from the stool and fill the bucket with water, dumping it over my head to rinse off. I start to move for the third and final room, but a soft voice in my ear stops me. "Where are you going?" he asks, a hint of anger in his voice. "I told you to wash thoroughly." He waits a beat, then adds pointedly, "Inside and out, Ken."

I'm almost dizzy as I realize that he has to be watching me somehow. I glance around the room, but there's no sign of anything out of the ordinary. Of course, we've got a whole room full of clandestine surveillance equipment downstairs, and Omi painstakingly taught each of us the basics of using it. He could just know me well enough to know that I wouldn't have thought of washing myself there, but some instinct tells me his eyes are on me right now, unseen. Oh. God.

I collapse back down onto the stool, fighting not to hyperventilate. Slowly I reach for the soap again, working it into a thick lather against my hands. Trying not to think about him watching me, I slide forward to kneel on the floor and brace myself with one hand. With the other I reach back and find the tight ring of muscle that blocks my entrance, sliding my slick fingers around and scrubbing carefully at the area. My breath catches as I slip one finger inside and my hips jerk back instinctively to meet the intrusion. There's none of the pain I'm used to, not with only one slender finger inside and that coated with slippery soap. I add a second finger, hissing a bit at the stretched feeling. It's been a very long time since I had anything inside me, and I'd forgotten just how good it could feel. I work the fingers back and forth, cleaning everything I can reach of my insides. My prostate pulses with each brush of my fingertips, making me moan softly as I pant for breath.

"Enough," he whispers in my ear, making me moan again at the sound. I slide my fingers out obediently, my body protesting the sudden emptiness. "Rinse yourself off, then go soak."

I fill the bucket again, then reach back and dump it over my ass. Streams of lukewarm water trickle over the sensitive flesh, making me shudder with desire. God, I need to jerk off, but I obey the commands instead. Unsteady on my feet, I wobble over to the last door and slide it open, stepping inside.

There's only a narrow bit of floor in here; the rest of the room is taken up by the tub. The sides are made of cedar, and the smell mingles pleasantly with the lingering scent of the soap. I step into the hot water, wincing at the temperature, and ease myself carefully down. The inside is sculpted to give comfortable resting places, and I settle into one with a sigh, enjoying the feeling of the hot water up to my neck.

"Feel good?" he asks, and I murmur an acknowledgement. His voice lowers, turning into a sensual whisper in my ear. "Can you feel the water against your skin? I want you to make yourself aware of every part of you body, and the way the water slides over it. Feel the way it works itself between your toes, the way it glides against your feet and calves, the way it caresses your thighs." Each part of my body tingles as he names it, and I become hyperaware of it. I've always loved baths, but hot water has never felt anything like this before.

"Move your hands, feel the way the water resists you," he continues, and I obey. It's like sliding my hands through a pile of silk. "Feel the way the currents you create swirl against the rest of your body, as though the water is caressing you in return. Against your arms and shoulders. Against your collarbones. Against your torso..." he pauses, and chuckles. "Your nipples are getting hard. Can you feel the water against them?"

I whimper at this further evidence that he's watching me. My nipples are indeed hard, taut peaks of sensation that send sparks shooting straight down to my groin with every brush of the water against them. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the side, helpless under the spell of his voice.

"Do you ever sit in the bath, and imagine my hands on you Ken?" he asks, and I moan in reply. He chuckles again. "Do you think of what it would feel like for me to touch you, to slide my fingers over your nipples and down your chest, following that trail of dark hair farther and farther until I can bury my fingers in the curls?" Now I know I'm dreaming. This just wouldn't ever happen in real life. Since I've confirmed that this isn't reality, I decide to relax and enjoy the dream while it lasts. My own hands echo his suggestive words, sliding down to tangle in the soft curls around my erection.

"Don't!" His voice is an angry hiss, startling me into freezing with my fingers just centimetres away from where I need them to be. "If you touch yourself, the game is off, Ken. I told you to do exactly what I say." Slowly I pull my hands back up to rest on the edges of the tub, shaking with the need to touch or be touched. The water is almost a torment on the sensitive skin now, stimulating me without enough pressure to send me over the edge.

"Good boy," he murmurs, and I flush. "You have a gorgeous body, Ken. Athletic, muscled, slender. Beautiful." The last word is hardly more than a breath, as if he's reluctant to say it. It's certainly not a word I've ever heard associated with me before, and it shocks me that he would think so.

"You are beautiful," he repeats, perhaps seeing my surprise in my expression. "More than you know or suspect. I've thought so since I first met you, but I..." for the first time he seems hesitant, uncertain of himself. It occurs to me that perhaps he's chosen this odd way to seduce me because he doesn't have the courage to say it to my face. God alone knows I've certainly never had the courage to say anything to him, except by slip of the tongue. "I was afraid," he admits finally, confirming my thoughts. "Afraid of what you represented, of the loss of focus I suffered when you were around. I'd already let myself be distracted once from my mission, because I was attracted to a teammate. I didn't know how long Kritiker was planning to keep me with Weiss, or what would happen if I approached you. I took my sister's name to remind me of what I was supposed to be concentrating on, and avoided you as much as possible. I never dreamed you would return the attraction."

I am startled by the idea that he's been in another of Kritiker's teams. Of course I know that Weiss isn't their only field team, not even their only lethal unit. But I've never seen any of those others, and I'm fairly certain even Omi has never met any of their members. And yet, Aya had clearly already had some experience when he came to us. It should have occurred to me before this.

I start to say his name, and some impulse moves me to change the word at the last moment. "Ran," I murmur, and I hear his indrawn breath over the transmitter. "Ran, Takatori is dead, Esstet is gone, and your sister is awake and safe. And I..." I take my courage in hand, and blurt out the rest before I can lose my nerve. "I've been lusting after you since I met you. More than just lust... I think I'm in love with you."

There, I said it at last. The thing that has been weighing on my chest for nearly two years, and I finally got it out in the open. Now all that's left is to find out how he'll react. I try to pretend I'm not shaking as I wait for his reply.

He's silent for a long moment, then came another of those deep rich chuckles that made me shudder. "I don't recall giving you permission to speak," he murmurs, and my groin tightens further with lust.

But... I can't just leave it at that. That's how the whole mess with Kase had begun. I'd tell him I loved him, and he would skilfully evade the implied question by turning it into a matter of lust. I'd never noticed at the time, but looking back on it now I can see that he'd never once said the words I'd so needed to hear. Aya is not Kase, they are nothing alike... but I'd been fooled once, and I don't think I could bear to have my heart broken the same way again.

"Ran?" Something in my voice must warn him not to reprimand me, because he says nothing - it sounds fragile even to my ears, like I would break if he said the wrong word. "Ran, I love you." I hold my breath, praying for him to answer me the way I need him to, fearing the rejection he would almost certainly make.

"I'm not sure I know what love is anymore, I've closed myself off to it for so long," he admits after a long moment, and my heart stills in my chest. Oh God, please no... "But what I feel for you goes beyond anything I've ever felt for anyone before, even Knight. At the time I thought I was in love with him... so I suppose I must be in love with you."

All the breath rushes out of me, and my body goes weak with relief so suddenly I almost end up underwater. He said it! He said the words. Maybe, just maybe, this time will be different. Maybe I can safely give my heart to him. "I trust you," I tell him, echoing the question that started this whole bizarre encounter.

He makes a sound of satisfaction. "Then get out of the bath and come up to your bedroom." There's a click that I recognize as the sound of the transmitter being shut off, and I pull the receiver off my ear. One way or another, we've just taken the game a step further. Wondering just what awaits me in my bedroom, and hoping it somehow involves Aya in person, I stand and reach for a towel.

The shelves in the outer room no longer hold my jeans and sweater, I realize as I step through the door from the bathing area. I freeze in place, clutching the towel to me in an absurd fit of modesty, as I realize that he must have been in the room at some point while he was talking to me. God, I'd left both doors open! He would have been able to see me lying there naked in the water, shivering from the effect of the combination of the water and his voice. Somehow the idea of him watching me directly seems more intimate, more erotic, than his watching me through a camera.

But why had he taken my clothes? Surely he doesn't mean for me to walk up the stairs and across the balcony naked. Granted, the balcony faces an alley that isn't used by anyone but us, but it's still awfully public. I'm pretty body shy, especially since I'd been caught in that warehouse when the Yakuza set it on fire. The scars aren't obvious - the doctors had done a good job with the skin grafts - but they're still there, and I'm a little self-conscious about them. Aya surely has to know that.

There's nothing for it, though. It's either go naked or wear the towel, and considering his earlier reprimand for doing something he hadn't told me to, I don't think the towel is the right option. Taking a deep breath, I unwrap the towel and sling it into the laundry basket in the corner before stepping outside the last door.

I'm in the hallway now, still sheltered by the building, but I'll have to go outside to get to the stairs to the balcony. I crack the door and glance outside quickly, checking to make sure no one is out there, before darting through and bolting for the stairs. Once up on the balcony I feel a little safer - anyone going by would actually have to look up to see me, and if there's one thing you learn as an assassin, it's that nobody ever looks up.

In fact, once I'm on the balcony, there's something of an illicit thrill to the whole thing. Nobody who knows me would ever believe that I would walk out in public naked. I think if Omi could see me now, he'd be as shocked as I had been by him earlier. This is a night for discoveries, apparently.

My door is unlocked, and good thing too since my keys are still in my jeans. That must be how Aya got in. I push the door open and steal inside, my heart pounding in my throat. He's in here somewhere, I just know it. Through the tiny living room, past the kitchen and the bathroom, I can see the door of my bedroom is ajar. I creep towards it, trying to get a glimpse of him to prepare myself, and to convince myself that this is real.

There's no sign of him as I push open the door, and I can feel disappointment crashing through me. He's not here. Then where is he? Is this some kind of weird joke after all? Is he...

Strong arms grab me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides. I struggle for a moment, then catch a glimpse of cherry red hair from the corner of my eyes and relax. "What..."

"Shh," he reprimands me, his breath stirring my hair and caressing my ear, making me shiver. "You may say 'yes' or 'no' to any question I ask you, but you are not to speak otherwise. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I answer, sagging against him a bit. I can feel silk and denim against my skin, and his hard muscled body beneath. It really is a fantasy come true, and it's too good to believe.

"If at any time you want this to end, all you have to do is say my codename," he tells me. "Otherwise, no matter what you say or do, it will continue. Do you agree?"

"Yes," I say again, revelling in the feel of him hard against me. I can feel his erection even through the pants he's wearing, grinding into my ass. He's just tall enough that I fit into his arms perfectly, his body cupping against mine in all the right places. God, I'm in Heaven. I'm not dreaming, I've died and this is my reward for... something. I can't think of anything I could have done that would be good enough to merit a reward like this.

He slides something down over my eyes, tying it tightly behind my head. I bite down on an objection, standing still while he works. I want to see him the way I've dreamed about him, all fire and passion and longing. But I agreed to this, and I'm not going to say or do anything that might make him change his mind and stop.

Silk glides across my wrist, then tightens as he ties another knot. I make a choked noise of surprise, but he says nothing as he moves on to tie the other wrist. "Sit on the bed," he orders, and I shuffle forward to obey. My knees hit the edge of the mattress, and I collapse down onto it. There's more silk where my plain cotton sheets would normally be, and I twitch in anticipation. God, that's going to feel so good against my naked skin... soft silk on one side, hard Aya on the other...

He pushes me down so my head is lying on the pillow, now also covered in silk, and ties the bindings on my wrists to the bedposts. Suddenly I'm glad I decided against the more traditional futon, opting instead for a nice solid Western-style bed frame. Briefly, I wonder where the hell he got all the silk. Maybe he raided Youji's closet?

When I'm tightly secured, I feel the mattress tilt as he settles down beside me. He leans down and kisses me, his lips strangely tentative against mine. I kiss him back with everything I have in me, wanting him to know just how badly I've wanted this. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and I welcome it, meeting it with bold strokes of my own. I feel his hand fist in the pillow beside my head and wish I could see his expression.

"Oh God, Ran," I blurt out when he pulls away. Immediately I remember his admonition not to speak, and I cringe, waiting for the reprimand. Instead his breath catches slightly, and when he speaks his voice sounds tight.

"You may also use my name," he amends his earlier words. "Only that name." I realize he's missed hearing his own name. He's been 'Aya' for so long now, and even after his sister had woken up we'd never been able to get the hang of calling him 'Ran'. Not to mention, it has to be weird for him to be called by his sister's name in bed. I chuckle under my breath, and he stops the sound by sealing his lips to mine again.

This time when he pulls away he trails his lips down over my throat, finding and activating every single nerve ending there. I arch up off the bed with a wordless moan, encouraging him to more of the same. He obliges, taking tiny nips with his teeth before soothing the hurts with his tongue. Even if I was permitted to speak I don't think I could come up with a single coherent sentence.

That talented mouth moves further down my torso, licking and sucking as it goes. He latches on to one of my nipples and bites down hard enough to make it ache, but it's a pleasant pain and I make appropriately appreciative noises. Kase had always been rough with me, and whether I'd started out inclined that way or was trained into it there's no denying that I like it hard and fast and brutal. Aya - no, Ran - seems to sense that, and he's merciless with his teeth and fingers.

I want to bury my hands in that incredible hair of his. I want to see the expression on his face as he worships my body. I want to run my tongue along his skin and find out if he tastes as sweet as I've always imagined. I can't do any of it while I'm tied down to the bed blindfolded, damn it!

I growl as he lowers himself further, denim and silk scraping against my skin as he slides down to lie with his chest cradled between my spread thighs. The sound seems to delight him, as he chuckles against my stomach. I shiver at the vibration, making him laugh again as his tongue swipes out to explore my navel.

He hadn't made it clear earlier whether he'd actually been with this 'Knight' he'd mentioned, but his actions tell me louder than words that he's no virgin. Oddly, I'm glad... it means he's going into this with his eyes wide open, and hopefully with no regrets. And, of course, the skill he's demonstrating with his tongue is something I'm not going to complain about any time soon.

He continues his downward journey, and I feel almost dizzy with anticipation as he approaches my erection. Kase had rarely gone down on me, saying he disliked the taste. I just know Ran's lips wrapped around my cock will feel ten times better than anything I've ever felt before. His fingers stroke and caress my inner thighs, making me squirm with bottled-up pleasure.

That hot tongue approaches closer... closer... then skips over my cock entirely, sliding down to lick at my balls with firm, long strokes. The frustration is intense and I can't help crying out, making him laugh again. That's almost enough to send me over the edge by itself, and he pulls away slightly until I calm down again.

"You'll come when I want you to, and not before," he murmurs, making me shiver again. God, he's too sexy for belief. I should have known he'd be as much a perfectionist in bed as he is with everything else.

He continues to stimulate my balls, cupping them in his hands and gently pulling them away from my body. I jerk my hips beneath him, trying to get him to give me more pressure, but he's too fast for me. When he finally drops his mouth lower still, I'm surprised to realize I'm whimpering steadily.

Then I cry out again, shocked by the feel of his tongue circling the tight ring of muscle at my anus. It's... it's like nothing I've ever felt before, that's for sure. God, I didn't think it could be this good. No wonder he was so insistent that I clean myself thoroughly, if he had this in mind! My arms pull helplessly against the restraints, and my hips are pinned by his arm. I can't move, I can't do anything but lie there and try to remember to keep breathing through the pleasure.

He stabs in tongue inwards and I moan his name in ecstasy. Now I know it's not a dream - my dreams just aren't this good. A Heavenly reward of some kind is still a possibility, but there's no way it's a dream.

Then I know it has to be real, because the damn phone at the side of the bed starts ringing. Only reality could be that cruel. "Fuck... ignore it!" I rasp as he lifts his head on the second ring.

He smacks my ass lightly. "No talking," he reminds me, but he obeys my injunction and returns to what he was doing. The phone isn't any louder than the ringing in my ears, and it's easy to ignore it.

Then, somewhere around the fourth or fifth ring, the little voice of my conscience screaming in the back of my mind finally manages to make itself heard. I bolt up against the restraints, swearing. "Shit! What if it's Omi and Youji?"

He curses as well and rolls off me, and I sense him reaching for the phone. "Ran! You can't answer it, this is _my_ apartment! Untie my damn hand for a second, will you?"

The answering machine clicks on as he fumbles to obey, and I hear my own voice invite the caller to leave a message. The beep comes, and then Youji's voice. He sounds tired and strung out, and a little surprised to get my machine. Small wonder - usually I'd be sitting waiting for a phone call in case they needed backup.

"Kenken, it's Youji. We're not going to be..."

Ran finally gets my hand free, and I lunge for the phone, not even waiting for him to remove the blindfold. Instead of grabbing it off the cradle, I manage to knock the damn thing over, sending it tumbling to the floor. Ran leans over and snatches it up, handing it to me so I can raise it to my face. I still can't see a damn thing, but that doesn't really matter. "Youji?" I ask, cursing my voice for being so breathless. "What's up?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," he replies, sounding even more surprised. He knows I never go to sleep until everyone is safely back at the Koneko - usually I'm waiting up in the mission room when whoever went out gets back.

"I wasn't asleep," I blurt out, then curse myself for passing up a perfectly good reason why I'd had so much trouble answering the phone. "I was just... uh... busy. Yeah, I was busy." Oh God, can I sound any more like an idiot? I might just as well tell him what I was doing when the phone rang. "You guys okay?" I finally finish, hoping to salvage the situation at least a little.

"Yeah, we're fine - we got the targets. We're not gonna be back tonight, though - Omi took a little damage, and his Master offered to let us crash for the night. He's fine, don't worry."

I can hear Ran shifting as Youji speaks, but I ignore him in favour of concentrating on what the older man is saying. "Oh. That's good..." My voice breaks as Ran trails one finger slowly up the length of my cock, ending by swirling it around the tip. God, what is he trying to do to me? Quickly I muffle the receiver against my neck, and hiss "Quit it!" at him before returning to Youji. "Sorry, got distracted," I tell him as Ran chuckles at me in the background. I hope Youji can't hear that. "Sure, that's fine - I guess we'll see you guys tomorrow. Uh, have fun!"

I hang up the phone before Ran can prod me into squeaking again, managing by some miracle to actually get the receiver back on the cradle where it belongs. "What are you doing?" I demand, scandalized.

"After all the trouble Youji and Omi have gone to in an attempt to get one of us to walk in on them, I figured some payback would be appropriate," he murmurs in return, still chuckling. I pull off the blindfold and get my first good look at him. God, I've never seen him look so hot! Skin-tight black denim jeans that look like they were painted on him do nothing to hide the bulge at his crotch, and the sight immediately restores the desire I'd lost during the phone call. A deep blue silk shirt caresses his chest and arms, making his eyes look more brilliantly purple than ever. The shirt is a bit wet in places, and I blush as I realize that's my precum all over his chest.

"The trouble they went to?" I repeat, trying to get my mind to focus on something other than those wet patches and their implications. Then I blink, chuckling. "Actually, that would explain a lot. I thought they were either being careless, or I was being clumsy as usual."

He snorts, and his hand shoots out to grab my free wrist. "Have you changed your mind about going through with this?" he asks, one eyebrow raised. "If so, just say my codename. Otherwise, I'm going to have to punish you for talking so much."

I wonder briefly if I'll lose the chance to be with him entirely if I end the game now. I am enjoying myself, but considering the trouble I've already had with my memories tonight, I'm not sure that will continue to be true. I trust Ran, yes, but the past is hard to let go of. Then again, this might be my only chance to be with him. It's worth it.

"No," I tell him. I start to add, "I haven't changed my mind," but then remember the restriction about speaking. I lift my arm a bit instead, gesturing towards the tie still bound to the bedpost.

He searches my eyes for a moment, frowning, and I'm afraid _he's_ changed his mind. I lean up and kiss him desperately, hoping to get him back into the right frame of mind. It seems to work, as he pushes me gently back down and reties the knot at my wrist.

He picks up the blindfold, and I shake my head minutely. "What is it?" he asks. Taking that as tacit permission to speak, I explain.

"I want to see you. I need to see you. I need to know this is really real, and not just another dream or fantasy."

Understanding comes into his eyes, and he nods. Instead he picks up my feet, directing me with gentle pressure to bend at the knees. Bringing my ankles together, he binds them with the silk scarf that had been the blindfold. I'm amazed at the ease with which he renders me immobile. Ropes and knots aren't something Weiss bothers with much, since we kill all of our targets. He sees my curious look, and gives me a small smile.

"Crashers was a non-lethal unit," he explains as he tightens the last knot. "We generally captured our targets and turned them over to the authorities." Satisfied that I'm not going anywhere, he leans over to kiss me again. I can't help but respond, and I'm immediately swept up in the desire between us once more.

His hand trails down to cover my cock, which surges back to full life. I rock my hips up against his hand, and he swings one leg up and over my chest so that he's straddling me, pinning me down. All I can do is squirm helplessly beneath the onslaught.

"Ran," I moan, and he growls in return. The sound shoots straight to my cock, and the motion of his hand is suddenly easier with the lubrication of precum.

"God, Ken, you're so incredibly sexy," he murmurs, echoing my exact thoughts about him. Slowly he slides his ass up my torso, shifting his hand behind him to keep up the gentle stimulation of my erection. I can feel his balls pressing against the sensitive skin of my stomach, and I can see the length of his cock jutting proudly out from his groin. It's gorgeous, the most breathtakingly erotic thing I've ever seen, and I wish I was free to say as much. Instead I lick my lips, staring at it hungrily, and he moans in response.

"You want to taste this?" he asks me, fingering the tip of it. I nod and he shifts forward again, sliding it into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I focus my attention on using everything I've ever learned about blowing a guy to turn the tables on him. He's been frustrating me all evening, and now it's my turn.

I swirl my tongue over the tip and then run it down the length, loving the bitter salty taste of him. I always loved this best, the act of pleasuring my partner while taking nothing for myself. Sucking my partner off always makes me feel as if this must be something beyond just sex, something past mere lust. It's too selfless and act for those things. Not to mention the fact that I'm just plain damn good at it. As much as Kase had found it distasteful, even he had admitted that I had a talented mouth.

Ran apparently agrees, groaning in abandon as I suck and lick and nibble at him. I feel his cock twitch, and then he pulls away. I cry out at the loss, opening my eyes to find him staring down at me hotly, his chest heaving. I stare back, drinking in the sight to hold against the lonely moments when he isn't around.

"You are incredible," he murmurs, caressing my cheek with a sweetly tender gesture. His other hand is still working my cock, maddeningly slow. I think he's trying to drive me insane. He leans over and kisses me again, his long arms allowing him to make the stretch. His other hand is tracing feather-light patterns all over my torso, pausing now and again to pinch at a nipple, never staying in any one place long enough to offer firm stimulation.

I have to break away from him to breathe, my body still trying to rock my hips up against his hand for better friction. He refuses to let me cross the line, keeping me right on the edge of fever frenzy. Vaguely I realize I'm crying out almost constantly, wordless moans that plead with him to let me finish. He rubs himself against my chest, his eyes half closed with his own pleasure and a wicked little smile on his luscious lips.

I can't stay just short of the peak forever. Eventually my body concludes it's not going to get what it wants, and some of the tension drains out. I've reached this point once or twice before, when Kase was tormenting me, and I expect Ran will do the same thing Kase did - make a disappointed noise and untie me, giving up on the game.

Ran does reach up to the ties, but instead of releasing them he tightens the knots. My eyes widen in apprehension as he smiles at me again and turns himself around on me so his back is to me. He stops touching me for a moment, then just as my body starts to recover his mouth descends and brings me to painful hardness once more. I cry out, thrashing futilely against my bonds as he settles back, high up on my chest so that my face is practically in his ass. Then he wraps one hand around the base of my cock and pulls the foreskin tightly down, and with his other hand he begins to stroke.

Slowly. Deliberately. One quick, sharp stroke from base to tip and then he pauses for a full second, before repeating the process. Again. And again. Over and over, while I writhe and curse beneath him. It's maddening. It's mind-blowing. It's frustrating as all hell. It's heavenly pleasure. It's not enough, God damn it! I've never felt anything like it. I can't deny that it's an entirely pleasurable sensation, but it's too damn much and not enough at the same time. He could keep me here all night and I'll never reach the peak, hovering eternally just short of it until he chooses to release me.

Then after twenty or so torturous strokes, he completely undoes me by abruptly switching to exactly the rhythm I need. Fast and furious, it'll only take me seconds to come at this rate...

I scream, I actually scream, when he stops as abruptly as he started, returning to that maddening slow pace. "Please, oh God, Ran, no more, please no more, please let me go, Ran PLEASE let me come, I can't stand it, Ran, oh God..." The words pour from my throat, totally unconnected to my brain. To my utter horror my eyes fill with tears, the warm salty drops spilling over to slide down my cheeks. Thank God he's got his back to me, so he won't see my utter shame. Begging him is bad enough.

He speeds up again, but I know better now than to think it means release. Sure enough he stops just before I can explode over his hand, returning to the slow sharp strokes. I know he can hear my words, because he's making soft pleased noises of his own. God, he's enjoying this, enjoying my misery. He _is_ just as bad as Kase. How the hell did I get into this situation twice? You'd think I'd have learned after the first one! Or maybe sex is just always like this with another guy. Maybe it was only okay with Yuriko because women don't have the same drive to dominate their partner. Does Youji do this to Omi? Or, maybe worse, does Omi do this to Youji?

"Please, Ran, please stop, I can't take it any more, PLEASE..." The flow of words continues despite my efforts to stop them. Begging won't help - he won't let me go until he's satisfied, I learned that lesson well enough when Kase took it into his head to torment me. Granted, he had used pain mixed with pleasure to accomplish his ends, while Ran used only pleasure, but it was a pleasure so intense it felt like pain. He wasn't going to stop, God, even Kase had never kept me strung so tight for so long...

/"If at any time you want this to end, all you have to do is say my codename. Otherwise, no matter what you say or do, it will continue."/ The words leap suddenly into my mind, the memory of his voice coming clearly despite the haze of pleasure suffusing my brain. Is it possible? If I call his codename, will he stop? Surely not - he's enjoying himself too much, that's obvious by the pressure of his cock against my chest. Still, there's only one way to find out...

"Please... ABYSSINIAN!" I scream, hardly able to choke the word out past my tears. Instantly the hard pressure on my chest vanishes as he swings himself off me. Seconds later the first of the ties at my wrists is gone, followed by the other. Then my ankles are released, and he's lying in the bed next to me, cradling me against his chest. His long fingers touch my cheeks, finding the wetness there, and he makes a distressed noise.

"Baka... why didn't you stop me earlier?" he asks, his voice gone husky with concern. I lie there dazed, hardly able to believe that the torment has stopped. He really did stop as soon as I said the word. He never meant to hurt me. Oh God, he really is different from Kase. I start to cry in earnest, the relief of it hitting me with such force that I can't stop the sobs that wrack my body. He holds me close, murmuring soothing words into my ear as he rocks me gently back and forth.

Finally I wind down, sniffling into his chest, and he pulls away a bit to look into my eyes. "Ken, what happened? You were enjoying it at first, I know you were. Why didn't you use the safeword?"

I gulp and look back at him, feeling a little ashamed of the way I'd equated him with Kase. "I... I forgot," I admit after a long moment. "It was... it was too much like... he never stopped when I begged him to. Not until he'd had enough. I thought maybe it was always like that... and then when I remembered what you'd said about your codename I thought..." I turn away from him, unable to look him in the eyes. "I thought you wouldn't stop either."

He puts a finger under my chin and turns me to look at him again. "Kase did that to you? And he wouldn't stop when you asked him to?"

I blush, embarrassed to be talking about my former lover with my new one. "He never... did _that_ , exactly. He would... it was... there was more pain involved, usually. Not so much that he actually marked me, or damaged me, but some. But no, he generally wouldn't stop when I asked him to."

"Why did you ever let him tie you up again, after the first time?" he wants to know, frowning. I shrug.

"I don't know. Because I loved him. Because I thought that was the way it always was. Because... because I thought no one but him would ever want me." I sigh. "He messed me up pretty badly, Ran. I'm still sorting out what parts of what he told me are true, and what aren't, even after all this time. I... I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to be with me," I add miserably.

He pulls me into a tight embrace, hugging me fiercely. "Baka. Of course I still want you. I want to help you, to teach you all the things Yuuji - Knight - taught me, about pleasure. It doesn't have to be about pain, and it shouldn't be." He hesitates, then adds softly, "I love you, Ken."

I close my eyes, unable to believe my good fortune. He loves me. He still wants me. He stopped when I asked him to - at least, he stopped when I asked him to properly. I'm safe with him. "I love you, Ran. I trust you. Show me how it's supposed to be?"

He blinks at me. "Now?"

I mock-punch him in the chest. "You worked me up that far, you'd damn well better be ready to do something about it!" I scold him, laughing with the wonder of it all. He kisses me, running his hands down my back, and this time I can return the favour.

I'm too far gone to spend much time on foreplay. From the fevered moans and the way he thrusts his hips against mine I know he isn't faring much better, for all that I'd been the one at his mercy. "Do you... want to take me?" I ask, trying not to cringe at the thought. I don't mind having something inside me, in fact I enjoy it if it's something as small as my fingers, but he's big. Even bigger than Kase, and taking Kase had always hurt. I still feel a little fragile, I'm not sure I can bear any pain right now.

He looks a little wistful as he sighs. "Actually, I was hoping you were seme," he confesses, shocking me. "I know I come across as very aggressive, but... well, the one time I tried taking Knight, it... it was a mess, frankly. Which was just as well, since he wasn't the uke type."

I try to picture Ran - cold, untouchable Ran, who always has to be in control of himself and his situation - as an uke. Surprisingly, my imagination is more than happy to supply an image of him writhing beneath me as I drive deeply into his body. My cock twitches at the very thought, and I moan and bury my face in his chest.

"I think I could manage that," I tell him, my voice breathless and trembling in reaction. "I've never done it before, though. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me," he reassures me as he reaches over my shoulder to snag something off the bedside table. It's a small bottle of lubricant - he must have put it there, since it certainly isn't mine. "Just go slow and be careful. And use lots of this."

I uncap the bottle and pour some into my hand. It has the same spicy sent as the soap I'd used earlier, and the smell blends with the musk already in the room. I smooth the oil onto my cock, hissing a bit as the oversensitive skin protests the stimulation. His hand closes around mine and pumps twice, making me shudder with sensation.

He rolls onto his back and pulls me with him, so that I'm now the one lying cradled by his thighs. Bracing myself with one hand, I use the other to guide myself to his entrance. Finding the tight ring of muscle, I probe at the entrance and feel him forcibly relax his body. I slip inside relatively easily, and slowly ease forward inch by inch.

It's incredible. It's indescribable. I've never felt anything this tight, this hot. Sex with Yuriko had felt good, but this... this is unbelievable. Nothing on earth can be this good. It's indecent. It's... fuck. There are no words.

I glance up once I'm fully seated inside him, and my breath catches at the expression on his face. He has his head thrown back, his arms raised above him to grip the bedposts tightly. His eyes are only half open, staring back at me with an intensity almost too hot to handle. "Ken..." he moans my name like a prayer, and the sound sends shivers all through me. "Ken, damn it, fuck me!" he demands, and I give in to my own body's urgings and obey.

If just being inside him is impossibly good, thrusting in and out of him is beyond belief. His legs come up to wrap around my waist and his fingers rake at my shoulders, leaving marks I'm sure. I pound into him, faster and faster, feeling the orgasm I'd been denied all night building frantically within me. I can't hold back... white washes over my vision and I explode into him with a force I've never felt before.

I black out for a moment, and when the world returns I'm collapsed on his chest. He's stroking my hair gently, his chest lifting me with each panting breath he takes. I can feel his erection digging into my hip, and I realize with embarrassment that I came without him.

"Jesus..." I pull back and lift myself up again, disengaging from him with a soft 'pop'. He grimaces at the sense of loss and his hand drifts towards his cock, but my mouth beats him there. If I can't get him off at the same time as me, I can at least have the decency to send him with flair.

He tastes even better this time than he did before, and the sounds he makes as I swirl my tongue over him would have been enough to bring me erect again if I wasn't so completely spent. I feel his balls tighten and pull up, and I plunge my mouth down to take his full length deep into my throat. He explodes with a shout and I drink it all down, savouring the taste.

At last I've milked every drop from him, and he pulls me up to lie beside him in the bed. We stay there for long minutes, both of us fighting the sleep that so often follows a mind-blowing bout of sex. I drowse in his arms, feeling totally happy for perhaps the first time in my life.

"Ken, why didn't you want Youji to know I was here?" he finally asks me, prodding my sleepy mind back to wakefulness. I blink at him, trying to figure out what he's talking about - my thought processes aren't exactly working at top speed at the moment.

"Oh. The phone call. I... I have no idea, actually, it was kind of an instinctive reaction. I suppose I'm just so used to hiding from my teammates - Kase and I had to keep our relationship totally secret, or we'd have been kicked out of J-League."

He blinks at that. "Oh. All right, that makes sense. I just... it seemed like you might be ashamed..."

I hug him tightly. "God, no! We'll tell them tomorrow, as soon as they get back. They'd have to be pretty hypocritical to protest us sleeping together!"

He chuckles, and hugs me back. Sleep claims me once more, and as I drift away I hear him murmur, "I love you" in my ear once more. The words I never thought I would hear from him sing in my heart like a joyful chorus, and I fall into dreams with a smile on my face that threatens to become a permanent expression.

 


End file.
